


Commencement

by grasssea



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 04:40:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8042920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grasssea/pseuds/grasssea
Summary: A set of ten short fics counting down to Season 2





	1. Curiosity

The moment Chloe crept out of the elevator, Lucifer froze and adopted the posture of a conservationist faced with a particularly skittish subject; eyes averted, shoulders nonthreateningly hunched. He let Chloe pick her winding way to the piano and watched out of the corner of his eyes as she sat on the very edge of the bench, long feet away from him. 

“You’re the Devil, then?” she said, slowly, chewing the words over before she spat them out. 

“Yes, I’m rather afraid so.”

He braced for panic or accusations, but Chloe wasn’t the easily startled sort and she’d had a few days to think things over. 

She pursed her lips and nodded slowly. “Alright. I-I have one question.”

“Ask as many as you want,” Lucifer said graciously, even as his stupid human heart raced. 

“If you’re the Devil, and Amenadiel is an… angel?” she waited for Lucifer’s silent confirmation, “And God is real….”

Lucifer’s heart pounded as Chloe took her sweet time getting to the point. 

“Does that mean aliens don’t exist?”

“Ha!”

The laugh caught Lucifer by surprise and Chloe’s mischievous smile proved that even Satan could be thoroughly bowled over. He hugged her shoulders, without a thought for human boundaries or human fear. 

“Welcome back, detective.”


	2. Festivities

“Bloody humans and their bloody corporate holidays…… greed inspired, sanctimonious….. utterly fixated on the nuclear family….”

“Maze?”

Maze’s face said, How dare you speak to me, but she grudgingly put down the scotch glass she was polishing and gave Chloe a terse, “Yes?” of acknowledgment. 

“Is he always this grumpy on Father’s Day?”


	3. Introductions

“My name’s Trixie, what’s yours?”

“Amenadiel. Very nice to meet you.”

“Are you a cop too, or are you one of Lucifer’s friends?”

“I suppose I’m a cop, in a way.”


	4. Bonding

Maze tugged lightly on a strand of Chloe’s hair that had fallen out of her ponytail.

“You know,” she mused, “you’ve grown on me. You’re sweet. Like a kitten.”

Chloe batted her away, frustrated. “I said you could hang out here for a few hours, not act weird.”

“And you shout at people,” Maze added idly. “That’s hot.”

“Maze….” Chloe said warningly. Maze threw up her hands in mock surrender and leaned back into the couch.

“Whatever you say, your house, your rules.”

“Thank you.”

“So out of curiosity, are you into giving orders everywhere? Because I’m usually on the other side of that equation, but I’m willing to be flexible.”

Chloe’s eyes nearly crossed out of sheer scandalized outrage. “Why do you say these things?” she asked, mostly to herself.

Maze shrugged, “I guess because it usually gets me what I want.”

Chloe looked like she dreaded the answer but she asked anyways.

“And what do you want?”

Maze thought about it for a second. “To go home.”

“Oh.”

Chloe wasn’t sure what to with that. Maze being vulnerable was… unsettling, but also strangely reassuring. It made her feel more like the person she insisted she wasn’t.

“But in right now I’d settle for hot sofa sex.”

Chloe couldn’t help a snort of laughter at the sheer stubborn inappropriateness of it, and when she looked up Maze was grinning.

“You couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

Maze reached over to flick the stray strand of hair away from Chloe’s forehead.

“As a rule, I try not to. I guess you’re the exception.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. Girl talk had gotten weird since she was in highschool, but much like Lucifer, Maze had a way of being uncannily charming.

God, she didn’t have any room for another awful friend.


	5. Eternities

In the small of the morning, when mortals slept and even Los Angeles quieted down to a simmer of villainy and inequity, that was when they walked together. 

Sometimes just around the apartment, pacing up and down the stairs, skipping over dozing party guests. They swam together, no clothes and no glamours, nightmarish faces on full display, 

At times they would go down to the streets, watch the silent life of the witching time. Clubs and bars and 24 hour internet cafes, evil laid bare in the enveloping velvet dark.

Stargazing was difficult, mortals had made such a muck of their atmosphere. The constellations of Maze’s childhood were nearly impossible to see in the city glow. But if they planned ahead, left at midnight and took the car out of the city, towards the hills, sometimes they could see the heavens in all their glory. 

You couldn’t see the stars from hell, nor from Heaven. Maze had to admit, earth had its perks. 

“You and me until the end of time, Mazi.” Lucifer whispered. 

Maze scoffed. 

“You’re being maudlin. I brought you out here to appreciate one of the few things worth seeing on this silly plane, not to deal with this.” She gestured to Lucifer’s entire self. 

“You’re the one being silly, darling. You forget, I’m stuck here until the world collapses and father reels all of existence back in for a scolding. And you’re stuck with me.”

Maze closed one eye and tried to imagine the stars winking out. She couldn’t quite manage it. She was not as old as Lucifer, she had not seen them be born. “Hmm.” she hummed, not bothering to disguise the note of incredulity. 

“Remind me to bring you to the next supernova,” Lucifer said, stretching languidly, “You’ll just adore it.”

“It’s a date, then.”

“Oh, don’t be common, love. It doesn't suit you.”

Los Angeles twinkled below them, as finite as to be a dream.

This would pass.


	6. Congregation

Somehow Thanksgiving dinner had gotten even more complicated.

Penny was there, of course, and she’d recently decided to go gluten free for a spell. Trixie had seafood allergies. Dan couldn’t eat strawberries, which seemed like it wouldn’t be a problem until they tried to do low calorie police friendly desserts.

Then there were the others.

Lucifer was a snob. His reaction to Taco Tuesdays had been pathetic. Maze was a good cook but kept putting rum in things. Amenadiel was a vegetarian.

But looking at Trixie’s smile- her delighted laugh, her joy at having a crowded table and a half dozen people paying attention to her-Chloe knew it was worth it.

Even if she _did_ have to buy filet mignon.


	7. Celebrity Cameo

Chloe had grown up in showbiz. She wasn’t easily impressed. But some things could throw even her off her game. Like, for example, a childhood idol. Or five of them.

“Detective, you look starstruck. I thought you were better than that.” His smirk was infuriating, but Chloe couldn’t even find it in her to be infuriated. They were right there.

“I mean,” he continued, “Girl who grew up in the nineties, in LA, and you had to go and be cliche about it? This is practically mainstream.”

“Shut up!” Chloe squeaked. “How do you know them?”

“Friend of a friend of a friend said I knew how to keep a secret, they were all in town and wanted a place to hang out that was lowkey. This accent is more than dreamy, you know. Everyone trusts an erstwhile countryman.”

Maze was mixing drinks and sending smirks in their direction. Chloe dug deep and found her cool. “Okay, okay. I came here for a reason. We have a case.”

“Ooh! Do tell me more. Possibly over a drink with your biggest heroes?”

“They weren’t my biggest heroes!” Chloe hissed. “I just liked the music. Everyone liked the music. It’s good music.”

“Just one drink,” Lucifer suggested. “We can talk over the case, make a plan, strategize.”

Chloe decided her best chance to keep her dignity was to give in. She was a big girl, she could handle staying for a few more minutes. Leaving would just give the demonic duo ammunition.

And honestly, they were _the Spice Girls_. She could let herself be dazzled for a little bit.

(If she really needed to get Lucifer back she could invite Mom’s ex-boyfriend- the adult film star- over next week.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chloe was a nineties kid, and even former child actors can have idols.


	8. Drinks

“These drinks are awful.” Maze said, and vaulted over the bar. The bartender put up a cursory protest, but something about her body language kept him form putting up a real fight. 

Chloe sighed into her hard lemonade. (She did have work tomorrow.) 

“Gin and tonic?” Dr. Linda asked, looking at Maze in a friendly way that still surprised Chloe. Somehow the two of them genuinely seemed to like each other. 

Maze slid it over and them passed Chloe something pink and probably chock full of alcohol. 

“You know I can’t drink that.”

“Oh, lighten up, have some fun.” Maze smiled a smile full of teeth. “It won’t kill you.”

Chloe looked at her, disbelieving. “If I have a hangover during a shootout it might just kill me.” Not to mention risking getting her in trouble with Olivia, who was gunning for a promotion and running them all ragged. 

“Fine be a party ruiner.” Maze shrugged, and leaned a little closer into Linda, who hiccuped. “We’ll just have all the… girl talk,” she pronounced the word like it was in a foreign language. 

Linda nudged her gently. “Be nice, Maze. Remember what we talked about, about boundaries?”

Maze raised an eyebrow. “That they have no place in a respectable drinking establishment?” 

Their easy back and forth was both bizarre and tempting. Chloe couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a really good night out with friends. There was Ella from Forensics, they went to lunch sometimes, but she wasn’t exactly the sort of person you brought to shady bars. 

She pointed to the drink, “What’s in this?”

“Sugar, milk, raspberry, a shot of creme liquer.” Maze said, then parroted mockingly, “You have work tomorrow.

That… wasn’t too bad. Maybe she had been wrong to doubt Maze. 

She took a tentative sip. It was sweet but not too sweet, vanilla and fruit flavours mixing subtly. Chloe had to give it to Maze, she was good at her work. She toyed with the paper umbrella. 

“So, what do we do here. Talk about shoes? Boys?” It sounded trite even to her ears. 

Maze smirked. “Actually, detective, if you promise not to arrest me I have an excellent story about your husband.” 

Chloe was intrigued, “I didn’t know you and Dan knew each other.” Dr Linda was leaning in like she could sense the drama with her acute therapist senses. Secrets, Maze’s smile, it was all promising or very, very worrying.

“I know all sorts of people.”

“Fine, spill,” Chloe said, “But first…”

“Yes?”

“Can you get out from behind the bar before we’re all kicked out?”

Maze perched on the counter instead, which was a minor improvement. “Okay, so it was a few months back…..”

(The story was very illegal and slightly worrying. It was also, Chloe had to admit, hilarious in a Maze-ish way. It was nice to indulge in an inappropriate laugh for once. Maybe Girl's Night had it's advantages.)


	9. Family Practice

“Now, until next week I want you both to work on personal responsibility. Remember, you can’t work together until you respect each other, and respect starts with a willingness to be honest with each other. Own up to your mistakes. Communicate about them. Okay?”

The response Dr. Martin got was decidedly non-committal. Lucifer Morningstar and Amenadiel…. well, for the meantime she was assuming his last name was still Canaan, looked like sheepish schoolboys. Really fit, dreamily handsome schoolboys. 

“Okay?” Linda repeated, staring at them over the tops of her glasses. There were some mumbles of assent which was probably the best she was going to get. 

Amenadiel stood and gave her a winning smile. “Have a lovely week, doctor.” he said politely, which just seemed to antagonize Lucifer. He muttered something invariably unkind under his breath. Linda thought she caught the word “liar”. 

“Lucifer, can we have a word in private?”

Lucifer managed a rakish grin. “Of course, Dr. Martin. Shoo, Amenadiel. You can walk yourself home. Or fly, as it were.”

The metaphors continued. It was almost to much, Lucifer was one thing but he and Amenadiel together squared the amount of oblique, biblical references. She crossed her legs, smoothed her skirt, and resolved to take an extra long lunch hour to recover from the brothers. 

Amenadiel exited slowly, like he half wanted to stay and figure out what was going on, but exit he did. At least one of the two had some sense of privacy, however skewed. 

Lucifer looked utterly at home on her futon, at least to the casual observer. Linda hadn’t gotten a Ph.D for nothing though. She noted the slight tenseness in his shoulders, the nervous way he was straightening his cuffs. Nobody liked being called out. 

“What do you want, doctor? Any insider information to share? Or did you just want to keep me behind to tell me you agree with me about Amenadiel being a hypocrite in denial about his foibles?”

“Oh, no!” Linda flipped open her file folder of notes, just to have something to do with her hands. “I just wanted to tell you that family sessions are double.”

Lucifer considered this. “That’s fair.” he admitted finally. “I’ll send you a check.”

They were still paying less than most of her other patients, but Linda couldn’t help it, she was invested. At least they made her practice both exponentially more interesting and a lot more attractive. (Doubly impressive since she regularly worked with movie stars._

God, why did the hot ones always have to be messed up?


	10. Learning

“Punch it.”

Lucifer eyed the punching bag dubiously. “Chloe, this a very nice suit. It’s a crime to sweat in Armani, you should know this.”

She crossed her arms. “Punch it. You need to learn how to throw a punch right before I take you back out in the field.” She looked stern, chin set and mouth thin.   
Lucifer swung back his arm and landed a solid blow on the bag. The impact of the hit reverberated up his arm, delightfully tingly and just a little painful, the teeth grittingly fun pain of mortality. The bag shook a little, but otherwise didn’t move, the downside to being helplessly human around the detective. Still, he thought he’d done a good job. It was the sort of punch that could definitely give a squishy meat face a good bruise. 

Chloe shook her head, disappointment writ over her pretty face and Lucifer put a hand over his heart. 

“That was amazing! That could give someone a black eye right there.”

“Yeah, if you were in a bar fight,” Chloe pushed him aside, her small hands pressing into his chest. She took a stance in front of the punch bag and jabbed twice, small, sharp hits to the side of the bag, then brought her knee up, pantomiming Maze’s favorite technique. “You telegraph everything, your movements are all big. You need to keep it small and focus on survival, not being admired or getting satisfaction out of the fight. Quick punches, keep moving. Disarm them, or get them down long enough that you can get away.”

“Detective-”

“I’m not having you almost die on me again!” she snapped, “Malcolm was a bad situation, and you walked right into him. You didn’t even try to grab for the gun. I still don’t know how you survived it, but I don’t want you pulling that trick twice.” 

Lucifer Morningstar was at a loss for words, which wasn’t a common occurrence but had been happening more and more often of late.

Chloe exhaled, and the rise and fall of her chest didn’t help his concentration. “Look, just bear with me for a few hours. I want you to be able to take care of yourself, and while your showboat thing might work sometimes you need to be able to save your skin as well.”

He swallowed and nodded, then turned back to the dull red punching bag, illuminated alone in the after hours quiet of the station gym. “Alright then. A few hours. Where do we start?”

“First, we need to teach you to move more. You stand totally still and then put way too much swing into everything. Keep light on your feet, and conserve motion for when you need it. Drop the big windup on the punches, try just a quick cross hit.” Chloe’s hand moved to his elbow, straightened his arm and gently guided a slow mock hit toward the bag.   
She repeated the motion a few times, and Lucifer’s heart- the traitor- fluttered. 

It took him a second to register that she had stepped back and was motioning for him to take a real go at the thing. 

He smoothed back his hair with one hand, then spun and punched twice in quick succession, trying to mimic the detective’s spartan motions, how she balanced on the front of her feet to put her whole body behind the punch. 

The punching bag surrendered a few muffled thumps, and swung back just enough to be satisfying under the mortal circumstances. 

Chloe shot him a look, eyebrows arched and face worryingly Maze-like in its beauty and judgement, “I don’t think the spinning was necessary.”

Lucifer rolled his shoulders. “We all have our methods, detective. It’s what makes us all unique.”

“You’re unique, alright.” Chloe rolled her eyes and leaned just a little into him. The slight pressure on his upper arm and her disheveled bun tickling his chin was more reassuring than any declaration of adoration could be. 

“Now, let’s teach you how to get a the gun away from the next lunatic you walk up to.”


End file.
